Side-Along
by Sela McGrane
Summary: When side-along apparating another adult, the one guiding the apparation must maintain complete focus of their own magic, or upon arriving at the intended destination, the pair may find they they have exchanged body parts. Most often, this is an eyebrow, or a finger, though any body part may be effected. For Minerva and Hermione, this issue is quite long term. M for later chaps.
1. Chapter 1

**I had a request for a marriage-law fic, and the idea I came up with is a bit... different. Rather than a law forcing marriage to all wizards and witches, this marriage law only applies in certain... situations. Read to find out what that means!**

* * *

"While a single person apparating holds serious risks of splinching if there is a lack of concentration during the process, side-along apparation is doubly dangerous, especially when the witch or wizard be carried along is an adult. With side-along apparating children, the child is not aware of how the process works, and therefore their magic cannot interfere. When side-along apparating another adult, the one guiding the apparation must maintain complete focus of their own magic, or upon arriving at the intended destination, the pair may find they they have exchanged body parts. Most often, this is an eyebrow, or a finger, though any body part may be effected."

\- From Garruk Walters' _Guide to Apparation_

* * *

Minerva McGonagall was not sure how much more she could take. It had finally come; the Battle of Hogwarts. The Order had known it would end here, even before Harry arrived a few hours ago, and had Snape not been Headmaster, the staff might have been able to do some more extensive warding before now. Her magic reserves were getting low, hours into the bloody mess, but she knew she had to hold on a bit longer.

Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, Minerva spotted Hermione Granger engaged in a duel with one of Voldemort's Death Eaters. The young woman seemed to have that well in hand, but she did not appear to have noticed another Death Eater approaching her position from behind. There were a dozen people between Minerva and Hermione now, and half of them were on their side. She couldn't risk casting a curse toward Hermione's stalker, in fear of hitting a comrade in the crossfire, so Minerva took a deep breath and did the one thing she could.

In a blink, she apparated from her position to where Hermione was standing, appearing on the spot just long enough to grab her protege's wrist, and then apparated the both of them back to the more defensible position Minerva had previously been holding.

"What the bloody…?" Hermione spat out, ripping away from her mentor's grasp in confusion and fear. "Oh, Professor McGonagall!"

"I apologize if I startled you, Miss Granger," Minerva said tenderly. "But there was another Death Eater coming at you from behind, and you did not to appear to be noticing. I had to get you out of there."

"Oh," Hermione said, blushing. "Thanks for the save, then."

"Not a problem," the older woman said. "Just try to watch your back. I wouldn't want to see you hurt, or worse, killed."

The brunette grinned. "I'll be as careful as you are."

Minerva huffed. "That does not inspire much confidence. Now, back to the battle, shall we?"

* * *

Hermione stared at the nurse at St. Mungo's in shock. "What?"

"You're pregnant," the dumpy woman said, frowning in disapproval. "About eight weeks along."

Eight weeks ago, Hermione had been busy fighting the last battle of the war. Sex had been the last thing on her mind, and the only males she'd been around just before that, and just after, were Harry and Ron, neither of which she would _ever_ get involved with. They were like brothers to her! "There must be some mistake. I have not had sex in over a year!"

"If you say so, but the test is one hundred percent accurate," the nurse said skeptically.

"I'm serious!" Hermione insisted. "Is there some _other_ way I could have gotten pregnant?"

The woman kept looking at her, as if trying to decide if Hermione was lying about her sexual activity. Eventually, her frown changed from a grumpy one to that of a concerned one, and she spoke again. "There have been a few documented cases of a pregnancy resulting from a botched side-along apparation. But that is very, very rare. If you were ovulating at the time of a side-along apparation, and the person you were apparating with - mind you, this is a billion in one chance - left behind a bit of themselves inside your womb, then it _can_ happen."

Hermione frowned, thinking. The only person she'd side-alonged with eight weeks ago, or even a little before or after that, had been Professor McGonagall, during the battle. But surely not...

"Does that other person involved in the side-along apparation have to be of the opposite gender?" she asked slowly.

The nurse shrugged. "Not at all. If the genetic material left behind in your womb sensed an egg ready to be fertilized, it would have reformed as sperm. I have a friend who conceived a child with her partner by banishing her own genetic material into my friend's womb. Magic did the rest, naturally."

"Oh my…" Hermione whispered.

* * *

Minerva was nursing a glass of brandy when she heard a knock on her door. "Enter!" she called, wondering who would be calling so late. To her surprise, it was not a member of her staff, but rather a former student of hers. "Miss Granger!" she said with a smile. "What brings you here so late?"

"I'm sorry for the hour, but I'm afraid there's something we need to discuss," the younger woman said quietly. "It's rather urgent."

"Come in," Minerva said, frowning. Hermione looked scared - not an expression the often found it's way into those brown eyes. Concerned, she ushered the brunette over to the sofa in front of the fireplace, and then sat across from her and waited for whatever Hermione needed to say.

"I'm pregnant."

Minerva's eyes widened in surprise. The announcement alone was a shock itself, but Minerva was not a stupid woman, and she knew Hermione would not be telling her this if it was just that simple. There was something else. "Why are you telling me?" she asked, confused.

"Because the pregnancy was not a result of me having sex with someone and not using protection, but rather in consequence to a rare happening regarding… side-along apparation."

Minerva was familiar with that phenomenon, but she still didn't understand why Hermione was telling _her_ about it. "Miss Granger, I'm afraid I still don't understand…"

"I'm _eight weeks_ pregnant, Professor," Hermione said exasperated. "Please don't make me spell it out for you…"

And then Minerva got it, and dropped her tumbler in surprise. The glass shattering on the ground caused Hermione to wince, but otherwise the room was silent. "It's mine," the older witch croaked after a minute. It wasn't a question. There was no other reason Hermione would be telling her.

"I haven't asked for a paternity test yet, because I didn't want the nurse to go blabbing until you and I had been able to decide what to do about it," Hermione stated. "But if I'm eight weeks along, and you are the only one I side-along apparated with during that window, and I've not had sex in over a bloody year...well, logically, yes."

"What do you want to do?" Minerva asked slowly. "It's your body, Hermione. Your life. If you choose to keep the child, then of course I'd support you in any way I can…"

"Oh, I'm keeping this baby alright," Hermione said indignantly. "It's not a question of that, but rather the bloody wizarding law regarding…"

"If a child is born out of wedlock, it is a bastard and may never inherit, nor may it carry a pureblood name. It may not work for the Ministry of Magic, nor at any wizarding government facilities." Minerva quoted the law in question, understanding where Hermione was going. "So either I marry you, or this child will live a life of ridicule and poverty."

"A life is a life," Hermione stated. "And while the child's opportunities would be seriously limited, there are jobs outside of Ministry domain."

"Very few, my dear," Minerva stated. "St. Mungo's is connected to the Ministry, as are any establishment in Diagon Alley, not to mention the fact that Hogwarts is tied to the Ministry, and it's nearly impossible for bastard children to gain acceptance to this school. So, the child would have to be privately educated, and even places that are not connected to the Ministry of Magic, employment opportunity wise, do usually prefer employees to be Hogwarts graduates."

"There's always the muggle world…" Hermione said weakly.

"Don't you want better for your…" Minerva began, "...for _our_ child?"

"Of course I do!" the younger witch insisted. "But I _don't_ want you to agree to marry me because you feel guilty about how we - me and the baby - would manage. I almost didn't tell you at all, you know. I just… I know you're the last of your family. I know how important your family line is to you, and I don't want to tarnish the name McGonagall by not giving you a choice in the matter."

Minerva nodded. "I appreciate that. I appreciate that you don't want to force my hand, but consider this: while we did not _conceive_ this child by conventional means, it does not negate my responsibility in this. Had we been actually _involved_ and you'd become pregnant per my lack of casting the proper contraceptive charms, would you expect me to to not accept the consequences of my actions?"

"Of course not. I'd be rather vexed if you didn't!" Hermione admitted.

"Then look at it this way," Minerva continued. "I was fully aware of the potential, albeit a slim chance, of a pregnancy after a side-along-apparation. I was also fully aware that my magical stores were low from the battle, and that my surprising you and pulling you away could easily have had ill effects. While I certainly wasn't thinking about it at the time, I did knowingly take the risk of getting you pregnant when I made the choice to side-along you, and I would expect to be held responsible for that action."

"Interesting perspective," the younger witch said. "But still, marriage is for life in wizarding society. You'd be bound to me for the rest of your life."

Minerva smirked. "I could think of worse things. But what of you? I'm not young anymore, but I'm not ancient either. By the time I died, you could be well into your forties, or even fifties. You could remarry then, but the chances of you having more children would be slim at best. And if you marry me to avoid this child being a bastard, I'm sure you wouldn't want to have other children with someone else, leaving them to the same fate."

"Well, pardon me for being blunt," Hermione sighed, "but I really don't want to not have sex for the next thirty or forty years. If you're seriously considering marrying me, then I need you to be… open-minded … about sex … with me."

Minerva laughed out loud. "Hermione, you never fail to surprise me. As I've already stated, I'm not young anymore, though that does not mean I'm not still sexual."

"But I'm a woman."

"And I'm a lesbian," the older witch said slyly.

It was Hermione's turn to be surprised. "Oh," she squeaked. "I had no idea."

"I suppose it would be you that would have more of an adjustment regarding the gender of your partner," Minerva sighed. "While I never would have pursued someone as young as you, I do have eyes and you are an attractive woman. If you want a marriage in every context of the word, I am willing."

"But what if I'm, uh… straight?"

Minerva peered at her companion over her spectacles. "You were the one who brought up sex, my dear."

"You've been far more agreeable to this whole thing than I expected," Hermione sighed. "Honestly, I expected you to freak out about the baby. I expected to have to argue about me keeping it. I was pretty sure you'd be willing to marry me, but I did _not_ expect you to be willing to _be_ with me, and I guess, well… I didn't really think that part through all the way. I kind of thought you'd tell me I could have a lover outside of the marriage."

The older witch frowned. "Ideally, I'd prefer our child be raised in an environment in which fidelity is considered a value."

"What do you think we should do?" Hermione asked.

Minerva thought for a minute before presenting Hermione with an offer. "The child has to be born, not conceived, in wedlock to avoid being labeled a bastard. I'd prefer that my child _not_ be a bastard, so in that context, I'd be inclined to marry you. On the other hand, I would not want to lock you into a marriage you'd resent, and I'm not thrilled about the idea of exposing our child to a lifestyle which does not include fidelity. So here's what I suggest: for the next six months, we live together. I can be there to help you through the pregnancy, in every manner you'll allow me, and in the process, I will attempt to… woo you, for want of better word. If at the end of six months, you do not feel like you could form an emotional connection with me that would include physical intimacy, then I will stand aside, and deal with the problems that come from having a bastard child on my own, and leave you to live your life as you so choose. Or, at the end of six months, we get married, and live as any married couple would - together, with love and affection that may or may not include another child or two down the road."

"I think that's a good plan," Hermione agreed after a short pause. "I can't even begin to express my gratitude, Professor, for how well you've handled this."

Minerva shook her head, smiling softly at the woman holding the future of the McGonagall family in her womb. "For starters, how about calling me by my given name, not my title. I did, after all, just express my intention to woo and wed you."

Hermione blushed, but nodded in acceptance. "Alright… Minerva.

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW! More coming... how fast depends on you guys... :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Well, over 40 reviews in less than a day - I'd say that's deserving of another chapter. Here's chapter two for you wonderful readers, and as soon as I post this, I'm going back to work. Work being the writing of chapter 3. On a roll here, and it has everything to do with your overwhelming support! Thank you all so much!**

* * *

Hermione had managed to come up with a passable reason for moving back to Hogwarts, to tell Harry and Ron - she was planning to start a Mastery under Minerva in the fall. They'd believed her, even if it wasn't true, though that was only because she'd previously expressed interest in doing just that. Maybe, down the road, she'd talk to Minerva about _actually_ training for her Transfiguration Mastery, but for now, the younger woman didn't want to ask more of her mentor than she already was.

Harry and Ron were helping her pack at the moment. They were mostly done, at which point the boys would escort her to Hogwarts, dropping her things in one of the staff quarters, and later on Hermione would move them to Minerva's from there. A wave of nausea rushed over the brunette suddenly, causing her to brace herself against a wall and take a few deep breaths.

"All packed!" Harry announced a moment later. "Say, Hermione, you don't look well. Do you want me to side-along apparate you to Hogwarts?"

 _Oh hell no_ , Hermione thought venomously. She was never going to do _that_ again. "I'll manage just fine on my own," she said. "Just feeling a big sick. I'm probably hungry - I'll go down to the kitchens after we've dropped my things off."

"We could floo over instead," Ron suggested. "Apparating can be dangerous if you're not totally focused."

"True," Hermione agreed, knowing full well exactly what sort of dangers were involved. "That's a good idea, Ron. I'm sure the Headmistress won't mind."

"Great," Ron said, looking relieved. "Besides, that will save us the walk up from Hogsmeade."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Typical Ron. A few minutes later, the three of them were tumbling out of the fireplace in the Head's office, greeted by Minerva. "Welcome," the Scottish witch said. "It's good to see you all."

"It was good of you to let Hermione move in before term starts," Harry said politely. "She'll be glad to have time to settle in before starting all the studying. It was not really a surprise when she told us she was starting a Mastery right away."

Hermione's eyes met Minerva's, and found understanding for the lie. There was also amusement in the emerald orbs, though Hermione had no idea what the older woman found so funny. This situation was awkward enough as it was, and Hermione was _not_ looking forward to telling her friends exactly _why_ she was probably going to marry Minerva McGonagall.

Gods, what was she going to tell her parents?

* * *

Minerva had never in her life _shared_ quarters. She'd had lovers over the years, but none she'd actually had move in. Granted, none of _them_ had been carrying her child. While decidedly uncomfortable with the entire situation, the older witch was putting on a brave face. While her decision to pursue marriage with Hermione Granger was not one based on guilt for having gotten her pregnant (however unintended), it was guilt that drove her to set aside her preference for solitude.

She'd been one of three children born with the McGonagall name. She'd had two brothers to carry on the legacy, so her parents had not been too concerned when she announced that she was a lesbian. Then, the war had taken the lives of her parents, and then later, the lives of both of her brothers, before either had found wives or started families. Had her father still been alive after Malcolm had died, Minerva knew she would have been told it was now her duty to carry on the family name.

But she hadn't. For years, she didn't seek a partner to have children with merely because she felt she had plenty of time. Then, she told herself that for the time being, she needed to focus on her career, and before she knew it, Minerva was no longer as young and desirable as she'd once been, and she was decidedly past child bearing age. When Hermione had announced her pregnancy, Minerva knew in an instant that this was her last chance to do what her father would have wanted; bring an heir to the name McGonagall into the world. Of course, wizarding law being what it was, in order to make Hermione's child a McGonagall, that meant they had to marry.

"I cleared some space on my bookshelves," Minerva said absently, noting Hermione beginning to unpack a box of books.

"I noticed," Hermione replied. "I also saw that your books are in alphabetical order. Would you prefer I shelve my books apart from your collection, or shall I insert mine in the correct places per your existing system? If I do that, we can save shelf space as I'll be able to not add books we both have copies of. I can keep those in storage, and if this arrangement works in the long term, I'll just donate my copies to the school library."

Minerva smiled, pleased that Hermione was apparently optimistic about their living together working out. As the older woman figured it, it was not the notion of living together, or even raising a child together, that had Hermione concerned. For her, the major worry was sex. Minerva couldn't blame the younger woman for that, but was confident it could be overcome. She'd just… take it slow. "As you wish," she stated in agreement to the plan about the books.

This week, she'd make an effort to touch Hermione. A hand on her shoulder, and things like that. Next week, the touches would linger. The week after that, Minerva would push the boundaries, and initiate contact that could be attributed to a close friendship; the older witch admitted to herself that she was looking forward to running her fingers through Hermione's hair. She wondered if Hermione was a cuddler.

Minerva already knew Hermione well enough to be able to seek a connection on an emotional level, and how to read the younger woman's body language. She was fairly certain that after spending nine months of the year with Hermione in close proximity, living together wouldn't be all that hard. They certainly had plenty in common. On that note…

"You're going to have to tell your friends what's going on eventually," she stated, thinking about how Hermione had apparently lied to Harry and Ronald about why she was moving to Hogwarts.

"I know," Hermione said quietly, pausing in her book shelving efforts. "But even in the case of normal pregnancy, it's wise to wait till after the first trimester before making announcements. So much can go wrong."

"Reasonable," Minerva agreed. "But the end of the first trimester is three weeks from now. Depending on how you carry, the pregnancy could start to show about the same time. I'd prefer to make an announcement before people start to make assumptions."

"Who cares what people think?" Hermione asked.

Minerva peered at her prodege over her glasses intently. "Hermione, it's no secret you've moved to Hogwarts. Once term begins, any number of students will be happy to report to the outside world that you've been seen coming and going from my quarters. If we allow people to _assume_ what brought about this pregnancy, then we are asking for them to draw the most probable conclusion - that you and I have been carrying on an illicit affair. It would not be unreasonable for people to further speculate that we were secretly involved whilst you were a student under my care, or that I took you to bed prior to your seventeenth birthday. I'd prefer to keep my career, not to mention my personal integrity, in tact."

Hermione paled slightly, then nodded. "Of course. I wasn't thinking. In that case, I'm guessing that when we announce this, it should be a formal announcement?"

Minerva sighed. "Yes, though I'm going to call in some markers to get a journalist I can trust to do the interview. The last thing we want is for someone like Rita Skeeter to take on the story. She'd make things worse than we could by allowing people to simply speculate."

"Agreed!" the younger witch huffed. "Though if she did try to write something, I could have her arrested."

"On what charge?"

"She's an unregistered Animagus," Hermione confided.

"Ahhh," Minerva breathed, filing that information away. "Oh, Hermione, on that subject, if you wish to study for a Transfiguration Mastery, I'd be happy to teach you. You're already living with me, and sans the body morphing aspects of the syllabus, your pregnancy wouldn't get in the way of that study."

Hermione blushed. "I would like to, but I couldn't put that on your plate… I've asked so much of you already."

The older woman let out a laugh. "My dear, you're the one that's pregnant. If anyone is asking a lot, it is I. You could have easily aborted this child and I would have been none the wiser."

"Even if I supported abortion, which I _don't_ for the record," Hermione said. "I would never have gone through that without speaking to you - I respect you far too much to have done that."

"Still, don't you worry about what you're adding to my plate," Minerva replied, keeping on topic. "If you want to earn your Transfiguration Mastery, we can start as soon as I file the paperwork at the Ministry. That usually takes a week, so that should be ample time for you to settle in here."

"It's a plan!" Hermione agreed with a bright smile.

On that note, Minerva realized it was the first time she'd seen Hermione really smile in a long time. Pity - the young woman had a beautiful smile. The older witch resolved to make serious effort in getting Hermione to smile more often.

* * *

Hermione was growing accustomed to Minerva's little touches. She knew full well what the older witch was playing at, and despite herself, she found that she didn't mind the close contacts with her mentor. It was still very innocent, though she knew it wouldn't stay like that. From a strategic point of view, she had to give Minerva points. Starting slow like this was an ideal way to help Hermione adapt to physical affection from someone who previously she never would have touched.

It had been a week since she'd moved in with Minerva, and she was looking forward to starting the Mastery program on Monday. Hermione was more or less settled in, and Minerva had given her a room of her own that she'd been free to decorate how she pleased. The older woman had not hid her amusement at how similar their taste in decor was, nor did she pass up the opportunity to make a less than subtle remark about how decorating their house after they got married would not be a problem.

"Minerva?" Hermione called, hearing the door to their quarters open.

"I'm going to _kill_ him!" she heard the Headmistress yell.

Hermione put down the quill she'd been using, and set aside the letter she'd been composing for Harry. She got up and made her way out to the main living area of their suite, just in time to see Minerva throw a glass at the door she'd just entered.

"With as often as you break glasses, it's a wonder you haven't run out," the brunette said softly. "What's wrong?"

"My bloody father!"

"Isn't he dead?" Hermione inquired, frowning in confusion.

Minerva stopped pacing and looked at her dumbly. "What?"

"You said ' _I'm going to kill him_ ', and if _him_ is your father, then _I_ am confused, as I was under the impression that Lord McGonagall died decades ago," Hermione explained.

The Scottish woman huffed. "His portrait. And a figure of speech. Bugger that man!"

"Ahhh," the younger woman sighed. "So you told him what's going on then?"

"Had to," Minerva said gruffly. "Needed his approval to marry you and figured I ought to get that business sorted sooner, rather than later. He's delighted, by the way. So delighted, in fact, that he shuffled his way through no less than twelve other paintings in order to make his way here to Hogwarts, so he could tell Albus, who of course has not _shut up_ about his own glee for the last six hours I've been trying to do paperwork in my office!"

"Can't blame him for being excited," a portrait of a sixteenth century knight chimed in from the wall to their left. "We're all very happy for you."

" _Corrumpebant_ ," Hermione said, flicking her wand in the knight's direction. All at once, the portrait was silent and still, as if it was a muggle painting.

"How did you do that?" Minerva demanded excitedly.

"I invented a spell, the summer we were living at Headquarters, to neutralize a portrait's magical elements for an hour," Hermione explained with a soft smile. "I'd be happy to teach it to you."

"I could kiss you!" the older woman exclaimed.

Hermione chuckled. "Perhaps another time. For now, I'd settle for a back massage."

"Your wish is my command," Minerva replied, pointing toward her own bedroom.

"I say no kisses, so she tries to get me into her bed," Hermione teased. "Really Minerva, I thought you were going to be subtle about your efforts to _woo_ me."

"I don't recall promising to be subtle," the other woman teased back. "I merely stated that I would be wooing you. At this moment, I believe we can both get what we want, as your back massage will be a fine example of just how good it feels…"

Hermione shuddered as Minerva came up behind her, and began to ghost her fingers along the younger witch's sides. "Humm…"

"... to have my hands on you." Minerva finished, placing a light kiss just behind the brunette's ear.

"No kissing…" Hermione murmured. Despite herself, she leaned into Minerva's hold. "Don't want…"

"Keep telling yourself that, my dear," the older woman replied. "But I don't think you're nearly as straight as you thought."

* * *

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	3. Chapter 3

**Well I was going to do one chapter for this particular weekend of Hermione and Minerva's adventure, but my word count was already 500 words past my usual size for a single chapter, so looks like there will be another chapter to cover the rest of this weekend. Enjoy!**

* * *

Minerva thought that things were going rather well, regarding her budding relationship with Hermione. The younger woman had been far more receptive to physical contact that she'd led Minerva to believe she'd be, often times even inviting such things as back massages or cuddling on the couch together. Still, the touches were more or less innocent, but Minerva was certain that it was only a matter of time before that changed.

"Umm…. help?" Hermione called from her own bedroom.

Minerva quickly rose from her spot on the couch, and moved to see what was wrong with her prodege. It was still early - in fact she'd thought Hermione was getting dressed before planning to head out to meet with Harry and Ronald. "What's wrong?" she asked, walking in the room.

"My bloody pants won't button," the younger witch huffed.

The pregnancy was now eleven weeks along. They had agreed to make an announcement after twelve weeks, but Hermione had insisted that certain people be told ahead of time. Harry and Ronald were today, after the appointment with Poppy in half hour, and then they'd have dinner at the Burrow tomorrow to tell the rest of the Weasleys together. Sunday afternoon, Hermione intended on going to see her parents, and Minerva was insisting on being there for _that_.

Still, despite being aware of what was going on for nearly a month now, that simple statement from Hermione made it all suddenly seem _real_ to Minerva. Hermione was having a baby. _Their_ baby. "Oh sweetheart," she muttered, coming over and kneeling in front of her former student.

"It's not a big deal," Hermione sighed. "Just… it's all real now."

"I know how you feel," Minerva nodded. "May I…?" she asked, reaching out toward Hermione's stomach.

Hermione lifted her shirt to expose the gentle swell of her baby bump, and guided Minerva's hand to the firming skin. "Our baby," she whispered.

Emotion welled up in Minerva's chest, but she forced her face to remain impassive. She would not do that to Hermione - the younger woman could not see the fear of her own ability to be a parent, or the uncertainty of if she was doing the right thing by courting Hermione. Most importantly, Hermione could not see the overwhelming love and pride roaring inside her at the idea of _this woman_ carrying _her_ child. She needed to let Hermione make her choice without regard for how Minerva felt, but the fact of the matter was that in the last few weeks, she'd realized that it really was only a matter of time before she fell in love with the younger witch.

"How about you put on something a little less snug, and sometime this weekend we'll find time to go into London and get you some maternity clothes?" Minerva suggested, standing. "We need to head down to the infirmary shortly."

Hermione nodded in agreement, and Minerva took her leave, giving the brunette some privacy. Meanwhile, she'd return to the couch, and resume sipping her brandy laced tea. She was not going to tell her long time friend that she was attempting to woo a girl, more than forty years younger, while entirely sober.

* * *

"Good morning Madam Pomfrey," Hermione said cheerfully as she entered the Hospital Wing, Minerva in tow. "I trust you got the file from St. Mungo's?"

"I did," the matron confirmed. "I must say, Miss Granger, I admire you for choosing to go through with the pregnancy. Most people wouldn't."

"I've never been _most people_."

A chuckle echoed through the otherwise unoccupied room. "True! Though one question about the file, before we start with the exam - were you able to figure out who the unintended second parent was? With the chaos during the last few weeks of the war, of course I'd understand if you didn't know, but it's wise to be aware of both sides of the child's family medical history."

Hermione huffed, and jabbed a finger toward the woman standing beside her, who had apparently decided to get sloshed before the appointment, and was presently focusing her efforts on standing upright, rather than participating in this conversation. Once Minerva sobered up, they were going to have a very serious discussion. She was _not_ going to raise her child around a drunk.

"Minerva?" Poppy squeeked in surprise.

"Poppy?" Minerva replied chipperly.

"Why are you drunk?" the matron inquired, hands on her hips.

Hermione turned to face Minerva as well, curious as to how she was going explain away _that_. "Yes, do tell." she said, glaring.

"Because _YOU_ are _SCARY_ when you're _MAD_!" Minerva explained dramatically.

"Why in Merlin's name would I be mad at you for this?" Poppy asked, obviously confused. "Minerva, it's not like you _wanted_ this to happen! It was an accident of a very innocent sort, and no one will hold that against you."

"She's trying to convince me to marry her," Hermione chimed in, knowing _that_ was the factor that Minerva was a bit worried about.

"WHAT?!" Poppy demanded with a roar. "MINERVA DIANA MCGONAGALL YOU CANNOT BE SERIOUS!"

Minerva covered her ears. "See? This is the scared part."

"Aren't you a Gryffindor?" Hermione inquired, fiening uncertainty.

Minerva puffed out her chest. "I'm HERE, aren't I?"

"AND YOU DAMN WELL SHOULDN'T BE!" Poppy ranted. "SEDUCING A STUDENT IS NOT OKAY, EVEN _IF_ YOU KNOCK THEM UP!"

"Madam Pomfrey," Hermione said calmly. "If you would kindly lower your voice…"

"I apologize, Miss Granger," the other witch gritted out, still obviously furious with her friend.

"Minerva will be involved with this child's life, one way or another. I'm very much capable of making my own choices regarding whom I marry, and I will not marry Minerva if I do not think it's a suited match. That said, the consideration is on the table because of the laws regarding a bastard child's ability to inherit a title, and Minerva is the last of her line."

Hermione watched the expression on Poppy's face change from angry, to consideration, to acceptance in a matter of a few seconds. "Alright," she huffed, looking decidedly more calm. "Though I'm still not thrilled."

"Which _we_ understand completely," Hermione said, glancing back at her mentor. "That all said, we can't hide this for much longer, and want to make sure the baby is healthy before we start announcing things. So can we get on with it then?"

Poppy look affronted at how Hermione was ordering her around, and Minerva sniggered.

Forty five minutes later it was Poppy that was sniggering, and Hermione and Minerva exited the Hospital Wing with identical looks of shock on their faces. Apparently, the downside to reproducing with a Animagis whose form has _litters_ , is that the chance of multiples is almost high enough to be considered the norm. Twenty-nine weeks from now, assuming Hermione could carry to term, they'd be a family of five.

* * *

Back in their shared quarters, Hermione snapped out of her shock and after insisting on Minerva taking a Sober-Up potion, the two sat down to talk. She would have insisted on the potion prior to the appointment had she realized Minerva was drunk, but the older witch had not stumbled in her footing until they were halfway to the Hospital Wing, and Hermione had been too wrapped up in thinking of all the questions she wanted to ask Madam Pomfrey to notice the other signs.

"I expect the Manor has enough room for us and three children," Hermione stated, "Though our quarters here will have to be expanded. The room I'm staying in now will suit as a nursery in the short term, but as the children grow, we'll need the space."

"Even before this new development, I was going to suggest that, should you agree to marry me, we buy a cottage in Hogsmeade," Minerva offered. "Not that the children wouldn't be welcome here at Hogwarts, as they grow they'll want to be running about, and during the school year, this is no place for them to be doing that. As you and your friends may have noticed, Hogwarts can be dangerous for eleven year olds. Can you imagine the hazards the school would present to toddlers?"

"Probably best," the younger woman agreed. "Though regarding our potential marriage… Minerva, I will not raise my children around a drunk. I understand that this situation is stressful, but if drinking is how you intend to cope, then marriage is totally out of the question."

The Scottish witch had the good sense to look ashamed of herself. "I give you my word, Hermione," she replied. "It will _not_ happen again. This whole thing is an adjustment, but I will find other means of managing myself."

"You could try _talking_ to me," Hermione whispered. "Minerva, if we're to make a marriage work, we need to communicate. I realize that I was so recently your student and that it must be awkward for you to open up to me about your feelings, but I am carrying your children, and I am an adult, and I assure you that if your intent was to shield me from further stress, it is both unwarranted and unwelcome."

Minerva sat silently for a moment, and then nodded. "You're right, of course. I'm sorry."

Hermione stood, and walked over to the armchair Minerva was occupying. "Look at me."

The older witch looked up, green eyes misted, as she mulled over the inner conflict she was dealing with. In the last three weeks, Minerva had acted so strong, never once giving Hermione a clue that she too held reservations about a potential marriage. Today, however, she'd met a breaking point, and took to the bottle. As she'd promised Hermione, it would _never_ happen again.

Then, to her shock, Hermione leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips. It was chaste, but lingered long enough to let Minerva know that the younger woman was not blind to the chemistry that had begun to build between them. While she'd never considered being with a woman before, Hermione was an open minded person, and it was evident now that Minerva was on her way to winning the younger witch's favor.

"I need to go if I'm to meet Harry and Ron in time," Hermione whispered, backing away. "I'll be home after lunch."

Minerva was sure the look on her face was ridiculous. The kiss had been a surprise enough, but Hermione's use of the word _home_ had been even more telling of her state of mind. Minerva wondered if Hermione was merely holding back actually committing to an engagement so that others would not accuse her of rashly entering into a formal relationship with the Headmistress of Hogwarts. "I'll probably be in my office," she choked out. "I'll see you in the Great Hall for dinner?"

"You have a staff meeting at four," Hermione said thoughtfully. "If you are agreeable to it, I thought I'd join you then, if you're ready to tell them what's going on."

Minerva nodded. "That's fine, though if it's all the same to you, I'd like to present just the barest of facts to the outside world for now - meaning that they will be told of the pregnancy, and that we're, for want of better word - courting, but I'd like to remain ambiguous about the fact that we're expecting more than one child."

"I'd intended to do much the same with Harry, Ron, and the rest of the Weasleys, though when we see my parents tomorrow, I'd like to be fully honest with them," Hermione bartered.

"Fair enough," the older woman agreed, standing. "Now off with you, or you'll be late."

* * *

Hermione was more than a little nervous as she walked into _The Three Broomsticks_ , where she had agreed to meet Harry and Ron. Surprisingly, she saw that both of the boys were already there; they waved at her when she walked in the door, and she made her way toward the table they'd already selected.

"You're early," she stated, taking a seat.

"Well, we figured you're always early," Ron said, "so if you said eleven, you would probably be here by quarter till, and well… it feels bloody weird not seeing you for three whole weeks."

"He missed you," Harry laughed.

"You missed her too!" Ron exclaimed, shooting a glare at Harry. "You just said last night…"

"I miss you both, too," Hermione said, smiling. "And you're right Ron, after seven years of being around each other all the time, not having you boys at my side day in and day out does feel rather odd. That said, over the summers we managed, so three weeks isn't that bad."

"Never did like summers," Harry joked.

"Anyway," Ron said, "What's new with you, Hermione?"

Waiting for her to reply, Ron turned his attention to his Butterbeer, and she saw Harry frown at the way she was hesitating. _Well,_ she mused, _best get it over with, like ripping off a plaster._ "I'm pregnant," she stated, finding her resolve. Butterbeer proceeded to spray across the table from Ron's mouth. "Ronald!" she yelped, casting a cleaning charm on herself, the table, and then the boys.

"BLOODY HELL!" Ron exclaimed.

Hermione had predicted Ron would react like that, though she should have timed the announcement till after he'd swallowed. Her focus turned to Harry, who was looking at her with confusion. "Harry?" she asked timidly.

"Who's the father?" he inquired.

"That's… complicated," she began. Hermione proceeded to lay out the basic details of how side-along apparation could result in a pregnancy, both boys paying more attention to her explanation than they'd ever done in any class.

"Okay, so if I'm understanding this correctly," Harry finally said, "then you got pregnant without having sex, but there is still a father… blimey, is he even alive? I mean if you got pregnant during the battle… it wasn't Fred was it?"

"No!" Hermione quickly replied, watching Ron turn pale at the thought. "It was Minerva who side-alonged me. There was a Death Eater coming up behind my position, and she realized I hadn't noticed, so she did it to save me."

The ghostly complexions on both boys made her realize that she'd just told them everything in a mad rush. She'd meant to ease into the situation, explaining first how the other person had saved her, and how despite not having to they were stepping up to the plate, and _then_ drop the bomb of whom exactly she was talking about.

"McGonagall?" Harry breathed out. " _Minerva_ … as in McGonagall?"

She blushed. "Um… yeah."

"How's _she_ handling it?" Ron asked, eyes wide.

"Very well, actually," Hermione said. _In for a penny, in for a pound…_ "She wants to marry me, so that our baby doesn't grow up labeled a bastard."

Harry looked stunned at this, obviously not well versed in Wizarding Law and why this might be important, but Ron just shrugged. "Good of her," he said. "So, you gunna? Marry her, I mean? Last I checked, you liked blokes, 'Mione."

Hermione quickly explained to a sputtering Harry what it meant for a wizarding child to grow up being considered a bastard, after which he calmed down a bit. "As to if I'll marry her… honestly boys, I have not made up my mind for certain, but I'm leaning toward yes. She's been so wonderful the last few weeks, and I'm open minded about the sex aspect."

Ron looked like he'd just eaten something very sour. "But she's _old_. And she's… _old…_ "

"She's not that old," Harry defended. "And pretty enough. I'd be willing to bet she's a demon in the sack."

Hermione looked at Harry in surprise. "Put some thought into that before, Harry?"

Ron huffed. "Fifth year Seamus had a major crush on McGonagall. We all listened to him go on and on and on about it. Neville, Dean, and Harry seemed to get it, but I never did. To each their own, though."

"Hey, I was with you until Colin showed me that picture!" Harry said, defending himself.

"What picture?" Hermione asked, glaring at them and wondering just how much Minerva was going to want to kill Colin Creevy if word of said picture ever reached her ears.

"Nothing graphic," Harry assured her. "Just a photo of her when she was younger. She was wearing slacks and a blouse, and it showed off her figure. Oh, her hair was down too. It really does make a difference in her appearance."

"If you say so…" Ron grumbled. "So, when you gunna tell mum and dad?"

"Yours or mine?" Hermione asked teasingly.

"Both," Harry chimed in.

"Minerva and I are expected at the Burrow for dinner this evening," Hermione explained. "Tomorrow, we're going to see my parents. Next week, we'll do an interview with a journalist Minerva knows and trusts, and make an official announcement then."

"Why would you do a bloody interview?" Ron asked, looking perplexed.

"So they can get the facts out before people assume that McGonagall and 'Mione were shagging while we were still at Hogwarts, idiot!" Harry answered for her.

"Oh, right then. Hey Hermione, can you pass the rolls?" Ron asked.

Hermione laughed, and did as her friend asked. The waitress had just delivered their lunch, which has far as Ron was concerned, meant this conversation was pretty much over. Having said all she needed to say, and neither of the boys appeared to be freaking out too badly, Hermione decided to just enjoy spending time with her two best friends.

* * *

 **Your response to this story has been nothing short of amazing. I fully expect this chapter to bring me over the 100 review count. In fact, I refuse to post the next chapter until you do... so, as usual PLEASE REVIEW!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Another chapter of "Side-Along". Enjoy!**

* * *

Minerva sighed as she waited for Hermione to finish getting ready. Today, they were going to tell the younger woman's parents what was going on, though if time wasn't off the essence per Hermione's rapidly expanding stomach, she might have preferred they put off this conversation for another week. Yesterday, telling both Minerva's staff and the Weasley family, after Hermione had already told Harry and Ronald, had been stressful enough. She hoped that the Grangers would be understanding, and that there would be considerably less yelling involved in the event.

The Hogwarts staff had been fairly accepting, though Minerva was still bristling at Horace's suggestion that she _step down_ from her position as Headmistress to avoid tarnishing the school's name for marrying a much younger woman. In fairness, Filius had hexed Horace for the comment, and everyone else had offered polite congratulations - though Hagrid had wrapped an arm around Hermione and Minerva each, and offered to be Godfather right off the bat.

The visit to the Burrow had been more trying for Hermione than it had been for Minerva. Molly and Arthur were long time friends to Minerva, though they were surrogate parents to Hermione and the couple's opinion meant a great deal to the young witch. Lucky for both of them, post the booming hollar from normally docile Arthur, and the screech of dismay that every Weasley child new well from Molly, the two calmed down. Molly was the more understanding, respecting Hermione's distaste for abortion, and her desire to spare her offspring from the hardship of living with the bastard label.

Arthur had presented the idea of giving the baby up for adoption - by growing up with parents unknown, their children would be labeled _muggleborn_ when they eventually came to Hogwarts, rather than _bastard_ , and he felt it was selfish of Minerva to ask Hermione to commit to a marriage to a much older woman all for the sake of perpetuating her family line. While his idea was not without merit, Hermione had later confided, the younger woman didn't think she would be able to live with herself giving up one child, let alone three. By the end of the evening at the Burrow, Arthur had expressed his support, though they both knew he gave it with reservation.

George had gotten a kick out of the whole thing, going as far as saying he wished he had a girl to knock up so that his child could be in the same class as theirs, and thus adding their major brainpower to his own prankster nature in the newest generation. Hermione had threatened to hex off his bits if she saw him anywhere near a female in the next twelve months.

Young Ginny's support had been the most enthusiastic. Her response to the pregnancy was " _I'll babysit!"_ and her response to a relationship between Minerva and Hermione had been " _I'll ship that!"_ Minerva had not understood the comment at the time, though Hermione had later explained a muggle form of entertainment called 'fan fiction', which Ginny had recently spent most of her free time pursuing.

Molly had assured them that she would pass word along to Percy, Charlie, and Bill, who had not been there for dinner. Then, before leaving, she taken Minerva aside and assured her that " _Headmistress or not, I expect you to make the proper time for Hermione and that child. That girl does not deserve a life of being lonely!"_

"Ready?" Hermione asked, finally coming out of her bedroom.

"I've _been_ ready," Minerva sighed, glancing at the clock which indicated that they should have left ten minutes ago.

"Sober?"

"Yes, _dear_!" the older witch groaned. "Hermione, I made a promise, and I do not break my word. Ever. Now can we _please_ get going? We're already late!"

"A witch is never late," Hermione said, grabbing a light jacked off the coat hanger by the door. "Nor is she early. She arrives precisely when she means to."

Minerva couldn't help but laugh at the quote from _Lord of the Rings_ , a book which she'd recommended to Hermione only two days prior. "Are your parents aware of this?"

Hermione shrugged, and threw a bit of Floo Powder into the fireplace. "No idea. Guess we'll find out."

* * *

As it turned out, John and Jean Granger were _not_ aware of Tolkien's sentiments regarding a witch or wizard not being bound to arrival in a timely manner, as they chastised their daughter as soon as she and Minerva arrived, claiming the tea was getting cold. "Mum, Dad, this is Minerva," Hermione introduced as they all sat down in the sitting room.

Of course, as luck would have it, the act of sitting down proved an apt way for Hermione's growing baby bump to show clearly, prompting her mother to start the conversation with a gasp of dismay. "Hermione, are you pregnant?"

"Ain't you a professor up at that school?" John inquired, addressing Minerva with a suspicious tone.

"Mum, dad, please stay calm…" Hermione begged, reaching out and taking Minerva's hand, silently asking for support, which the older witch gladly gave.

"Saying that does not inspire me to remain calm, young lady!" Jean snapped. "Better explain yourself quickly, because I'm not so daft as to think that two women can't have a child in your world!"

Minerva decided now was a good time to _teach_ these muggles a bit about apparation, and so she calmly launched into an explanation of how Hermione had become pregnant, and how it was she that was the proverbial father, clearly emphasizing that she and Hermione had never been physically intimate. "So, in answer to your questions - yes, Hermione is pregnant. Yes, my being here does mean that I was the second party in the conception process, but to be very, very clear, _no,_ I did not inappropriately touch your daughter, or any other student under my care for that matter. This situation was as much a surprise to me as it is for you."

John and Jean glanced at each other for a moment, and then John nodded and spoke. "So am I to assume that regardless of how this… _situation_ … came to be, your presence here today is an indicator that you are taking responsibility for it?"

"I am," Minerva replied evenly. "Though to what level is entirely up to Hermione."

"In the wizarding world," Hermione said, jumping in, "a child born out of wedlock is considered a bastard - they cannot take a wizarding name, or inherit, and their opportunities for education and employment are very limited. For this reason, Minerva has proposed that we marry. I have not accepted nor declined this offer as of yet, though to be perfectly honest, I'm leaning toward yes."

Minerva blinked. She had hoped that was the case, though it was the first Hermione had verbalized it. "You are?" she asked with a soft smile.

Hermione smiled back. "I am. But don't count your chickens just yet, McGonagall."

The older witch huffed. "With you, never. You are as unpredictable as a hippogriff."

Jean did not seem as thrilled with the prospect of Hermione's agreement to marry the Headmistress as Minerva was. "Excuse me, but what happened to not touching my daughter?" she asked, glaring.

"Mum," Hermione quickly said, drawing the muggle woman's attention away from Minerva. "I'm an adult. If Minerva and I choose to pursue a relationship now, it would not be inappropriate. Even if I weren't pregnant, we do have a lot in common, and a shared history which had built a level of respect and friendship that frankly, could have led to us becoming a couple down the road, anyway."

Again, Minerva was taken aback, surprised at the words tumbling out the supposedly straight Hermione Granger's mouth. In the last month, she too had come to realize that while the pregnancy was a catalyst for their potential union, their common interests were not lacking, and had she ever gotten a hint that Hermione was open to a woman's advances, she may have pursued the younger witch down the road in any case. Granted, it would have been at least a couple of years before she'd have been able to see Hermione as more than a student, but the younger woman had stated, the potential was very much there.

"You look pleasantly surprised to hear that, Professor McGonagall," John observed, raising an eyebrow in question.

"I am," Minerva confessed. "I won't lie - I have always been the sort of woman inclined to seek companionship with other women. To hear Hermione express that she might have been interested in myself, regardless of the pregnancy, is flattering. I'm certainly not blind - she is a beautiful young woman, body and mind, and could be with anyone she chooses. The fact that she is even considering me is mind-blowing, but it is a relief to find that consideration is not singularly based on the fact that she is carrying my children."

Jean didn't miss a beat. "Um… children?"

Hermione actually laughed at the expression on her mother's face. "Right. We're expecting triplets."

"TRIPLETS?" John exclaimed. "JESUS BLOODY CHRIST! DO YOU HAVE SUPER-SPERM OR SOMETHING, LADY?"

Minerva sighed. "Has Hermione explained anything about Animagi to you?"

Jean nodded, obviously recalling something her daughter had explained to her at one point. "The ability to change into an animal form, right?"

The older witch nodded. "In the case of an an Animagus procreating, should the witch or wizard's animal form be the sort which have litters, the potential for multiples is very common in pregnancy."

"So you are an Animagus?" Jean asked, looking more curious than anything. Minerva suddenly knew where Hermione's own curious nature had come from, though she suspected that the Gryffindor personality was more John's doing.

"Indeed," Minerva nodded. "My form is that of a cat."

"Thus the triplets," Hermione added with a grin.

"Well, one thing is for sure, Hermione." Jean said with resigned sigh. "I can stop worrying if you'll have problems getting pregnant the way I did."

* * *

After the lunch with her parents, Hermione and Minerva had done some shopping for maternity clothes, and then popped into the offices of _The Daily Prophet_ for their interview. The article addressing their situation would be printed in the following Sunday's edition, post a copy being viewed and approved by Hermione and Minerva. The interviewer, Regis Barrow, had been a long time acquaintance of Minerva's, and he had wished _the happy couple_ the best of luck with the public's response.

His comment had Hermione thinking. She'd not really, up to this point, looking at she and Minerva as a _couple_ , per se, though she couldn't really say she'd put much thought into designating their relationship as anything at all. "Minerva, what are we?" she finally asked later that evening, as they sat down for a cup of tea after dinner.

"Witches?" the older woman responded with a questioning tone, obviously not understanding the question.

"No," Hermione laughed. "I mean what are _we_? Mr. Barrow called us a couple. But we're not that, really, are we?"

Minerva looked thoughtful. "Well, you did kiss me yesterday. Generally that is a thing _couples_ do with each other."

The younger witch huffed. "I kissed Ron once, and that didn't make us a couple. On the other hand, we are getting to know each other for the sake of figuring out if we could manage to get on well enough for a marriage, and that _is_ the principle behind dating… and people who are dating _are_ considered couples…"

"But?"

"I don't know," Hermione huffed. "I didn't consider Viktor and myself a _couple_ till we'd shagged, so one kiss doesn't really sound very couple like to me. Granted, that's probably my lack of experience talking. I didn't really have much time for dating while on the run from a murderous dark wizard with two guys I look at like brothers."

"Well," Minerva said, smirking. "We could shag if it would help clarify things for you."

"Minerva!" Hermione yelped, stunned at her mentor's forwardness.

The older woman kept right on smirking, and then after a moment, put down her cup of tea and moved from her spot on the armchair to right beside Hermione on the sofa. "Come now, dear," she whispered, taking a finger and trailing it down Hermione cheek, then along her arm, before reaching a shaking hand that was still clenching a cup of tea. "Would you feel better if I called it _making love_?"

Hermione's heart raced as Minerva pried the cup from her hand, and set it gently on the table, then placing a gentle hand on the younger woman's neck and pulling her into a kiss. Unlike Hermione's offered kiss the day before, the one that spoke of hesitation, the kiss Minerva offered was full of confidence and promise, and Hermione found herself responding to it as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Her hands seemed to move on their own accord, reaching out and placing themselves; one on the older woman's hip, and the other on her neck. Minerva took this as encouragement, and pulled Hermione closer as she deepened the kiss. The taste of Minerva's tongue served as an aphrodisiac to Hermione. Quite suddenly, the younger woman wanted more. A lot more.

"Minerva…" she moaned as the older woman abandoned her lips and took to nibling just the right spot on Hermione's neck. "Oh, gods…"

"Still think you're straight?" Minerva inquired in a teasing tone.

Hermione wanted to be annoyed at that comment, but decided that she'd rather get _this_ where she wanted it to be going. She grabbed Minerva's wrist and guided slender fingers under her loose summer skirt and up to the very moist scrap of fabric at the apex of her thighs. "The evidence suggests otherwise," she whispered as Minerva froze.

The older witch pulled back and stared intently into Hermione's smouldering brown eyes. "Hermione, when I suggested…" she uttered. "...I didn't seriously think…"

"Now, now," Hermione clucked, moving to straddle a stunned looking Headmistress' hips. "You can't get me all worked up and then just back down."

"Hermione, until you are sure about us getting married, I don't want to…" Minerva sputtered as the younger woman began unbuttoning her own shirt.

The older woman's consideration touched Hermione, and in a lurch, the brunette realized something incredible. She was in love. She, Hermione Granger, was totally and completely in love with Minerva McGonagall. When she'd realized she was pregnant and by whom, the best she had hoped for was a comfortable marriage to said witch, and that over time they'd developed a rapport not unlike many Pureblood couples with arranged marriages had. Hermione imagined contentment, but never love. Still, somehow, it had happened.

"We can get married tomorrow," she finally said, smiling softly at her very-soon-to-be lover. "Right now, I want to make _love_ … to you."

Minerva could read between the lines, and Hermione knew it, and was therefore prepared when the older woman's lips crashed back onto her own, and the duel of tongues restarted in earnest. Hermione relished in every kiss and every touch over the next few hours, and by the time they were watching the sun rise through Minerva's bedroom window, each and every room in their quarters had borne witness to their naked forms.

"I do love you," Hermione finally confessed as they lay tangled together in bed, both finally ready for some well deserved sleep.

Minerva pressed her face into Hermione's neck and inhaled deeply. "And I love you," she replied.

* * *

 **Now for a question: Should I conclude this story with one final chapter that takes place after the birth of the triplets, or should I keep going and cover the entirety of how their relationship continues to evolve? Don't even ask me how long that would take - I have no bloody idea. PLEASE REVIEW!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello all! This chapter is a bit shorter than the others, but it's packed full of major plot factors, so I hope you enjoy it. I really put a lot of thought into if this turn of events was a good idea or not, and I look forward to hearing your thoughts on the matter. I did seriously consider ending this story with one, final chapter, but with as well received as this story has been thus far, I thought it deserved to be taken further, more in depth, and I felt that to do that I needed to add the dynamic of another character. Readers, meet Kade.**

* * *

Minerva sat in her office drowning a bottle of whiskey. The article in _The_ _Prophet_ had been printed, and despite how well put together it had been, it seemed that the mass of the wizarding world agreed with Arthur Weasley - give the baby up for adoption, and it is spared being called _bastard_ , leaving Minerva and Hermione no reason to continue to engage in their… affair. Hermione had moved away from Hogwarts, deciding that for the time being, she ought to stay with her parents. They still had time to decide if they would or wouldn't marry, and Minerva knew that Hermione was considering the option of giving the children up.

She'd promised Hermione that she wouldn't drink again, but Hermione wasn't here, was she? Minerva took another swallow of the harsh liquid, and the hacking cough that spilled out next almost blocked the sound of someone knocking on her office door. Almost. "Come!" she said, clearing her throat.

A young man, perhaps eighteen, walked in the door. He wore a Gryffindor uniform, though, so Minerva figured he just looked older than he really was, as that would make him too old to be here. That said, the curly dark hair and green eyes were unfamiliar to her, and there hadn't been any students to transfer into the sixth or seventh year classes this term from other schools.

"You shouldn't be drinking," he said in a harsh sort of greeting, eying the bottle fiercely.

Minerva drank the last swig in that bottle, and threw it at the wall, not even wincing as it shattered. "Who the hell are you?" she asked calmly. "Despite your uniform, I do not believe you are a student here."

"My name is Kade," he said, more gently this time. "And while I _am_ a student at Hogwarts, I'm not from _this_ Hogwarts."

Bleary eyes looked at him dumbly. "There's only one Hogwarts."

"There's any number of Hogwarts'," Kade shrugged. "The present one, of course, and then the thousands of past and future ones. I come from one of the possible futures. I am a friend. I'm here to help."

"Help what?"

"Hermione Granger is expecting triplets. Two of the babies are going to die," Kade replied. "I want to help prevent that."

Minerva's face went white. "How? Why?" she demanded, maternal instinct rising above her intoxicated state.

"How?" Kade spat. "Your _drinking_ was the first factor."

Minerva immediately looked ashamed of herself. "I'll never drink again. I swear," she said.

"You said the same thing to Hermione a few weeks ago, and here you are," the young man said pointedly.

"Well if what you say is true, then this time I have a damn good reason to keep that promise."

"That doesn't negate the broken one."

"It's not as if Hermione knows," Minerva ground out, losing patience with this boy.

"Why do you think she left your sorry arse?!" Kade exploded.

His outburst reminded her a bit of her own father, which caused her to shrink back a bit. According to those who knew him, she had inherited that scathing tone of voice herself, though objectively she couldn't really say. "How could you even know that? Have you spoken with her already?"

"No," the dark haired boy replied after a calming breath. "I just know. She told me… in the future."

"I suppose after being with an older woman didn't work out," Minerva spat, "she shacked up with a younger man!"

"Merlin, no!" Kade exclaimed, making a disgusted face. "She's my mum!"

Suddenly, Kade's comment about two of the three children not surviving resurfaced in her foggy mind. Two of the three… "Are you…?" she asked, eying green eyes that she now realized were identical to her own. "Our…"

"Five points to Gryffindor, Mother," Kade replied with a cheeky grin. "Though we've never actually met, in my timeline."

"What do you mean we never bloody met?" the Headmistress gaped. "Even if things didn't work out with Hermione and I, she'd never keep you from me!"

"I didn't meet her till a year ago," Kade replied softly. "She decided to give me up. When she saw you drinking, after promising not to, she decided that she couldn't rely on you as a partner, and therefore she couldn't marry you, and if she couldn't marry you, then the best thing for me and my siblings would be to give us up. That said, she spent the pregnancy depressed, went into labor early because she wasn't taking care of herself, and I was the only one who survived the birth. She told you none of us survived, and you guys haven't spoken since."

"Oh my god…" Minerva breathed. "I've made a mess of things, haven't I?"

"It's not too late to fix it."

"I hope you're right," she replied. "Son…"

* * *

Hermione couldn't say she was sure of her decision, but her parents seemed to think she was right to think that marrying a drunk was a bad idea. Yet, she loved Minerva. So, her self imposed compromise to everything was that she'd give her older lover thirty days to come to her bloody senses, and after that, she'd contact an adoption agency. If she and Minerva couldn't make things work, then Arthur was right, and the kids would be better off being raised as "muggleborn" than as "bastards". She didn't want to give her babies up, but she couldn't be that selfish.

"Honey?" her mum called. "There's a young man here to see you. Says his name is Kade McGonagall?"

Hermione's eyes widened. Minerva didn't have any living relatives at all. Either this man was a very distant relation, no relation at all, or… no, it couldn't be. She quickly stood from her desk and made her way down the stairs. When she came to the foyer, she saw a boy, perhaps sixteen or seventeen, with curly black hair and stunning green eyes. Okay, so maybe it could be…

"Do you know how much trouble you are in, young man!" Hermione snapped, instinctively knowing this boy was her son. "What could you possibly have been thinking!?"

Kade shrugged. "If all goes according to plan, then it will never have happened. Besides, you're one to talk, mum."

Jean Granger dropped the tea tray she'd been bringing in for them and their guest. "What?"

The young man grinned, eying the grandmother he'd never met. Pulling out his wand, he cast a series of charms to repair the broken items on the tea tray, though he left it on the ground, rather than put it back into Jean's still shaking hands.

"Mum, Kade is from the future," Hermione explained. "My son."

"Where are your siblings, Kade?" Jean wanted to know.

Green eyes looked down for a moment, and Kade took a deep breath. "I'm the only one who survived. My brother and sister never took a breath. That's what I'm here to change."

Hermione's hand moved protectively over her abdomen. "Have you spoken with Minerva?"

Kade nodded. "Yeah, left her feeling very guilty and dumping every bottle of liquor down the drain. Told her that the drinking is what drove you away."

"And what caused your siblings to…" Hermione tried to hold back the tears. She couldn't say the word.

"You love her, mum," Kade said softly. "And while I know you think giving us up would be best for our futures, that choice, plus not having Mother, left you depressed and not caring for yourself. You went into labor two months early, and I was the only one to survive."

"Surely I kept her from…" Jean started to say.

"You tried, Gran," Kade said, stopping her. "But you couldn't force food down her throat, and you didn't know she was eating sleeping pills like candy." The young man eyed Hermione. "Pretty stupid for a supposedly smart witch," he grumbled.

"I'm so sorry…" Hermione apologized, not even thinking it that odd to be remorseful to a boy who didn't even exist yet.

"I'm not here to make you, or Mother, feel guilty," Kade shrugged. "I mean I am, but I'm not. I want you guys to see what your stupidity will mean, so all our futures will be different. I'm not here to just make you feel guilty for the sake of making you feel guilty. See?"

"You ramble just like Hermione," Jean finally chimed in.

"Mum!" the future-mother grumbled.

"What? He does!"

* * *

Minerva was surprised when Kade returned to the castle with Hermione in tow, but immensely grateful none the less. "Hermione…" she muttered, looking the mother of her children in the eye. "I'm an idiot, and I'm sorry."

"You are that," the younger woman agreed. "But I accept your apology. That said, you will not be getting a third chance. If what Kade here says is right, then I am more to blame for the death of his siblings than you are, and I do not require you in my life to change that future. I simply have to alter my own way of coping. The fact that I apparently lack the same skills in that department as you do is why you're even getting the second chance."

"Fair enough," Minerva gulped. "I've already removed all the alcohol from our quarters, and my office, and instructed the House Elves to report directly to you should I so much as request a drop of the damned stuff."

Hermione looked impressed, and Minerva finally let out the breath she'd been more or less holding for the last few hours, since Kade had instructed her to wait there while he went to talk to his other parent.

"I'll be here to keep an eye on her too," their teenaged son added. "If the idea is for my presence here to be a catalyst for you two to sort things out enough that my siblings and I all survive the birth, then chances are I won't vanish from this timeline until we are born."

"Honestly," Hermione debated. "I'm surprised you're still here at all. The information you gave me changes how I will behave, ensuring that the pregnancy will be a healthy one."

Kade shook his head. "I know you want to believe that, Mum, but the fact is that you won't decide to keep us unless you are sure things will work out with Mother, and it was the decision to give us up that really buggered you regarding the depression."

"I could just decide to keep you guys, no matter the hardships in may cause."

Slender fingers ran through the mop of dark curls. "You and I debated this already, in the future, and according to your future self, you would have ultimately decided you couldn't be selfish enough to keep us without Mother in the picture, even if it meant that only one of us would have any future at all." Kade paused. "Wizarding society is cruel to bastards. I grew up in a muggle orphanage, and when it did eventually come out at the beginning of this term - my seventh year, that is - that I was a bastard after all, my friends turned on me. I had two job offers on the table by Christmas, before even taking my NEWTS, and they were withdrawn the minute the bloody _Prophet_ ran an article with their stupid speculations."

"How did they even find out?" Minerva asked.

"My own fault," Kade shrugged. "Being kid with no parents blows, so when I turned seventeen I went looking for answers. Someone saw me coming out of Mum's flat, did the math and a bit of research, found out that she only buried two of her three children seven months after the war ended, and well…"

"How'd you get your hands on a timeturner?" Hermione inquired. Minerva nodded in agreement of the question. She had been wondering that herself, seeing how all the time turners were destroyed in the battle at the Ministry two years ago.

Kade grinned. "You made it, Mum."

If Minerva had not already Hermione was brilliant, this might have shocked her. That said, the chocolate eyed witch's intelligence was a big factor as to why she was totally, completely in love with the younger woman. Yes, she was going to do whatever it took to make this work. No more broken promises. Hermione deserved to be with someone she could trust, and Minerva would be damned if she ever gave the mother of her children another reason to doubt her.

* * *

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